


Memoirs: Dreaming of four seasons, it was all for you.

by TheTransientTako



Category: Fahrenheit (Taiwan Band), JYJ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, DBSK/JYJ, Fahrenheit - Freeform, M/M, crossovers are love okay, kpop, mandopop, story told through letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 09:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10554178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTransientTako/pseuds/TheTransientTako
Summary: After his lover leaves for war, Jaejoong writes letters over the course of a decade in an effort to reach his long lost love.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [kpopolymfics2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2017) collection. 



> This fic was written for K-Pop Olymfics 2017. Olymfics is a challenge in which participants write fics based on prompt sets and compete against other teams of writers, organized by genre.
> 
> This is Team AU’s fic for the following prompt set:  
>  **Crush – "Fall"**  
> [lyrics](http://kpoply.com/crush-fall-lyrics-english/) | [video](https://youtu.be/FNnYIIdTBhQ) | [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lynnepettinger/4695744495) [prompts](http://66.media.tumblr.com/cdf803731ebc67213630163ff5bbcf85/tumblr_oh975jt2j51v9m0i0o1_500.png)
> 
>  
> 
> The other 2 fics for this prompt can be found in [the collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/kpopolymfics2017). Competition winners are chosen by the readers, so please rate this fic using [this survey](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1RbhtwhCAOZSMIji1lR0shSFAHwlT3wcWZlQ5X8mLKy8/edit)!
> 
>  
> 
> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> **Crush – "Fall"**  
> [lyrics](http://kpoply.com/crush-fall-lyrics-english/) | [video](https://youtu.be/FNnYIIdTBhQ) | [supplementary](https://www.flickr.com/photos/lynnepettinger/4695744495) [prompts](http://66.media.tumblr.com/cdf803731ebc67213630163ff5bbcf85/tumblr_oh975jt2j51v9m0i0o1_500.png)

Taiwan  
Spring - 1939

The weather was warm. Dappled late morning sunshine streamed through the large bedroom windows that overlooked the sea, sparkling like the facets of an aquamarine jewel.  
   A light breeze, tinged with the fresh salty scent of the sea, beach wood and cypress plants that grew along the coast, rolled lazily through the open window beside the bed. It ruffled Jaejoong's dark hair and tickled his nose, causing the young man's brows to furrow as he burrowed further into the soft quilt wrapped around him. Soon though, he let out a deep sigh into the snowy white pillow as the land of dreams finally eluded him and rolled over to greet his lover, only to be greeted with nothing but an empty space.

    Slowly he sat up and stretched, the comforter forming mountain peaks the color of freshly fallen snow at his waist as he yawned then gazed out the wide windows; smiling softly at the peaceful sight that stretched out before him.  
   Another yawn and Jaejoong slid out of the bed, clad only in a pair of thin, cropped cotton pants of inky cobalt, decorated along the sides with a stark white pattern of morning glory flowers. He drifted through the door that had been left cracked open and meandered down the hallway, following the muted sounds of sizzling meat and the fragrant smell of eggs that wafted through the fresh air from the kitchen. Jae stopped at the doorway and simply watched his lover's back, admiring the exposed muscles that strained and relaxed with every movement as he cooked. 

     With a small grin, Jaejoong tiptoed into the kitchen, the slate tiles cool to his feet, and wrapped his arms around his lover, startling him with a yelp and nearly dropping the hot wok he was cooking on the floor, and perhaps his foot as well. A kiss resolved any quarrel that may have ensued.

* * *

Taipei  
Fall - 1948

    The memory faded as Jaejoong stood in the quiet kitchen, stirring a cup of strong milk tea.  
   If only every day could have been like that day, he thought with a sigh as the bright warmth of the memory slipped away like a cloud passing over the sun, leaving Jaejoong only in the cold shadow of fall.

    Rain pelted the windows as he sat at the rough hewn kitchen table.  
   It was a must, Jiro had insisted, a sturdy home needed a sturdy table. It seemed so silly at the time, but as Jaejoong set his tea upon the golden red surface, he was sure that if the house were to be destroyed, the only thing that would remain in the aftermath would have been the table. He smiled softly at the memory, fingers lingering upon the surface a moment too long.  
   With a soft sigh, he reached over and grasped his inking pen and held it at the ready, poised above the crisp yellowed stationary as he thought of what to say.

 

_Taipei_  
_September 23rd, 1948 - 04:28pm_  
_Fall_

_Dearest Jiro,_

_How are you?_

_I wonder where you are right now, I hope it is somewhere pleasant._

_Autumn has arrived once again, the air has cooled and it has rained the last several days. I worry if the garden will be alright._

_As you know from my previous letter, I have arrived back in Taipei after three long years. Thankfully the house was still standing and left relatively as it was when I left._  
_The garden even survived! Although it has seen better days._

_Fortunately I have repaired most of the major damage to the house already. It was not much but it was enough to be a chore for only one person._  
  
_Oh, I almost forgot._  
_You'll be happy to know that your damn table is still here as well, you were right about it. I doubt even a typhoon could carry it away._

 He sighed softly as the memory faded and pressed the pen nib to the paper.

_Has it really been eight years now since you left? It seems like an eternity._  
_Funny isn't it? How things have wound up like this?_

 A few tears rolled down the chef's cheeks and fell onto the parchment, smudging the last few words, rich cobalt ink bleeding into the yellowed fibers as he set his pen down and wiped his eyes.

When had he started crying?

* * *

 

Taiwan  
Fall - 1938

   The scent of spices, cooking meals and the pungent aroma of stinky tofu drifted through the air in waves, bathing Jaejoong in their exotic heady aromas as he strolled through the market. The sounds of women and men haggling over prices of anything from fish and meat to vegetables and medicinal herbs, now a welcomed sound to his ears.  
   It had been a little over three months since he had come to call the island nation home. He had been an accomplished chef in his native Korea, but wanted a change of pace from the Korean culinary world as well as a new challenge to expand and hone his knowledge and skills. As it turned out, the local market was the Korean chef's portal of inspiration; which allowed him to open his mind to the various new possibilities that lay all around him.  
   To him, it was a proofing ground for the culinary arts, a place for experimentation and observation of the raw beating heart of the local food scene and how to gauge what would be well received or not.

   "Hey! Try this!" The deep, warm voice of his Sous Chef sounded suddenly from his left as a bamboo skewer with some kind of unknown grilled meat was thrust into his face.

   That was Jiro, a handsome and incredibly social local. He was a self-taught rising star of the Taiwanese culinary world, having been recognized for his re-imagining of local dishes and street foods. These creations he sold in none other than the various night markets, via portable food stall around the city. The acclaim for his dishes had spread through word of mouth, which was how Jaejoong had hunted him down and signed him on as his sous chef once he had sampled Jiro's fare.

   The two had bonded instantly as they explored the markets, and together they opened a restaurant that reflected the fusion of their unique and colorful backgrounds.  
  
Jiro had opened the doors and exposed Jaejoong to a world he would have never experienced on his own  
  


* * *

 

_Taipei_  
_Summer - 1940_

_Jiro,_

_I hope this letter finds you well and that the military life is better than it sounds._

_Things here have been well; your fans miss your handsome face as well as your cooking... mostly your cooking as I have yet to figure out how to imitate your recipes. I hope you're enjoying that fact._

_It is summer now and the garden is overflowing with fresh produce, so much so, I have taken to donating nearly half of it to the local food stalls and even set up a booth in the market for anyone to take it. It feels nice to give back to the people here, although I wish you were here to enjoy it as well._

_Well, it is getting late and I still need to plan out tomorrow's menu._

_Write me when you can, I look forward to hearing about your adventures in military life._

_Always yours,  
_ _Jaejoong_

_(P.S. - I know it has only been a month since you enlisted, but it already seems so long.)_

 

* * *

_Taipei_  
_Winter - 1942_

_Dearest Jiro,_

_Winter has arrived in Taipei._  
It is warmer than in Korea, but still cold at night.  
I remember when we used to huddle by the bread oven in the restaurant to keep warm on nights like these, those times seem so far away now.

_I apologize. I know that we decided to break it off, that it would be the best for the both of us because of the distance, but... I still cannot forget about you, about what we had... what we could still have._

_In other news, we did receive a dusting of snow the other day, it's nearly gone though. It was beautiful, like powdered sugar on a Christmas cake._ _Perhaps one day once you return, we will visit Korea where we can see a proper winter snowfall._

_That reminds me, I should write my sister, it has been too long. I wonder how they are doing in all of this turmoil._

_Please write me soon, I miss hearing from you._

_Always yours,  
_ _Jaejoong_

 

* * *

 

_Taipei_  
_Spring - 1944_

_Jiro,_

_The restaurant was closed yesterday._

_Things here have been difficult since you left, which has nothing to do with you obviously, but people here are terrified for the future and what that will bring. News travels fast after all and everyday we worry when the war will reach our shores._  
_It is like living in a bad dream and not being able to wake up from it._

_Somehow, I am doing fine though all of this chaos... No, that is a lie. I am not fine at all. My heart is heavy with worry for those I love. My family in Korea, you, the future. Why is reality so hard to deal with, without you here?_

_Are you even receiving these letters? You must be as I have not received any news of your demise and have not received returned letters, so you must be. But why do you not write?_

_Do you even care about those of us you have left behind?!_

 

_This alcohol isn't helping, my head hurts._  
_It is times like this that I regret having fallen in love with you._  
  
_I hope you are well._

_Always yours,_  
_Jaejoong_

* * *

_Hong Kong_  
_September 25th, 1945_  
_Fall_

_Dearest Jiro,_

_How are you doing?_  
_I wonder where you are right now; I hope it is somewhere nice._

_I am in Hong Kong now, coincidentally I arrived on your birthday of all days... how time flies._

_I know I don’t need to explain myself, but things at home have taken a turn for the worst. Many non-citizens were relocated to the mainland, myself included. I wonder how the house is doing, I asked one of the former cooks to look after it for ~~us~~  me, MingJie was his name, he always reminded me a little of you, or if you would have had a younger brother._

_That is beside the point, I am thankful to have been relocated to Hong Kong and I am hoping for this to be a chance to start over._  
_Perhaps I will open a new restaurant here for the duration of my stay, perhaps I will even fall in love with the sous chef. (laugh) Would that make you jealous?_  
_But in all honestly, who knows what the future will bring. It has been a almost a month since I arrived here and already I miss Taiwan and it's markets. The markets here are good, but it really is not the same, the atmosphere is... different. That is all I can describe it as._

_Anyway, Autumn has arrived once again, although I barely notice it here. The seasons are not as pronounced as they are in Taiwan, and the city has kept me busy._  
_Still, I find myself longing for something out of reach, I'm being sentimental again. What a sap I am huh? When i go into town today I will be sure to find a small cake in celebration of new beginnings and for your birthday._  
  
_Has it already been five years since you've left? I wonder if I will ever see you again? Perhaps we will find each other in our next lives._

_You may not know, but... I really miss you, even after so long._

_Please come back home to me._

_Always yours,_  
_Jaejoong_

 

* * *

 Taipei  
September 23th, 1948 - 07:28pm  
Fall

 

Several hours had passed; the letter had been left abandoned on the table. A decade's worth of longing had left the man feeling like a husk of a person as he lay sprawled on the low sofa, listening to the rain as his cup of tea cooled on the coffee table.

Nearly a decade of letters had been written and he had received no reply. The war had ended two years prior and common sense told him to give up, that Jiro was gone and never coming back. Yet, the smallest glimmer of hope that Jae would wake up from this nightmare and Jiro would walk through the door and things would go back to how they were.

It was a foolish thing and he knew it.

With a sigh he got up and moved towards the bedroom, glancing at the dining room table and the letter that still sat there and sighed again before turning off the light and crawled into bed.  
He would resolve matters in the morning with a fresh mind.

 

* * *

  
Taipei  
Fall - 1948

Morning sun cascaded through the wide windows of the living room, dust motes danced upon the light beams as if they were their own personal stages.  
  
Jaejoong sat at the dining table, yellow parchment, etched with lines of cobalt blue ink lay before him.  
After nearly ten years he had resolved himself, and had made a decision.  
  
This would be his last letter to Jiro.  
  
Thus with a sigh he inscribed the matching envelope with the familiar address, folded the letter, and sealed it away.

 

_Taipei._

_September 24 th, 1948 – 8:24am_  
_Fall._

_Dearest Jiro,_  
  
_Whether or not you receive this or not._

_Whether you are alive..._  
  
_I have made a decision and felt that you have the right to at least be informed about it._  
  
_I am returning to Korea._  
_I received a letter from my eldest sister. Their business was damaged in the war, and requested that I return to help rebuild. How could I refuse?_  
_I leave for Seoul at the end of the week; the address where I will be staying is enclosed._

_Jiro, I cannot say whether or not I will return to Taipei once everything in Seoul is finished. There are so many memories here that now linger like spirits that try to smother me with their ghostly veils, things that remind me of you..._

_I will be leaving everything here as it was, in the event that you return, the house is yours._

_I just wanted to let you know, despite the years… despite the distance… I have always loved you. And if fate decides to let us meet again… I would like to fall in love with you all over again._

_I hope this letter reaches you._  
  
_Always yours,_

_Jaejoong_

 

* * *

 

   Jaejoong shrugged on his jacket as he stepped into his black rubber boots. He closed the door behind him and took a deep breath of the fresh ocean air, just like that day so long ago.  
   He made his way up the cypress shaded path to the main road and shivered slightly in the cool shade while he admired the dappled sunlight and greeted the fresh breeze that kissed his cheeks with a smile.  
   So many memories were made here; so many things that made him wish he could freeze in time to admire forever. But alas, time moves on and ghosts of the past lingered like a thick fog that threatened to suffocate Jaejoong if he stayed any longer.  
  
   He crested the path and turned down the main road, making his way to the bus stop where the post box was located. The muted sound of ocean waves crashing on the beach reached his ears as birds chirped overhead easing his mind as he walked, storing the sounds in his memory for the future.  
   The letter in his pocket weighed heavy in his pocket, like a ship’s anchor that tried to keep him tethered to this place, to him, to a life that had already passed and was now only a shell. He sighed heavily at the thoughts as he made it to his destination and stood before the post box, as he had done so many times before. But there was something different this time. Perhaps knowing it was the final letter he would write to the far away Jiro, created this nervous hesitation he felt.  
  
    Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter, the thick paper envelope feeling heavy like a lead weight in his hands as he glanced down at it, reading the address, neatly printed in cobalt blue ink, making sure the stamp was affixed properly, that it was sealed just below the two tiny blue and green dragon flies that danced upon the back flap.  
   He exhaled the breath he had been unknowingly holding and rested the letter on the edge of the box’s slot. Once again hesitating for reasons he was not consciously sure of.  
  
   The sound of a bus pulling up at the stop met his ears, the rumble of the engine and squeak of the breaks as it stopped, the light chatter of voices drew his attention away from his task as he glanced over and the world seemed to slow to a stop. Just like in the films he had seen in the cinemas of Hong Kong.  
  
   There, only a few feet away, doused in a cloud of fog-like dust and filtered golden light of the morning sun, amidst a small sea of unloading passengers was Jiro. His officer's hat slightly askew, deep green dress uniform crisply pressed, rucksack tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and his dark brown, worn suitcase sat neatly next to his feet.  
  
    The rumble of the bus’s engine and mechanical groan of it’s gear box as it shifted and drove away, broke the spell that stilled the world and filled the breeze with dust as the letter slipped from Jaejoong's still frozen fingers.  
   “Jiro…” he uttered, nearly a whisper as the envelope fluttered to the ground, tears blurring his vision as a sob choked his throat. “JIRO!” he cried out and was suddenly moving forward, his legs carrying him at nearly a sprint to the man he had thought had left him forever.  
    Their bodies met like two stars as the Taiwanese native caught Jae and swung him around with the momentum; unable to hold back his own tears as he lifted the Korean born and covered his face with kisses. He uttered soft apologies for being so late in returning, which just made the younger sob harder as they both knelt to the ground and held each other for what felt like an eternity.

   Time passed around them, neither caring as the shadows around them grew shorter. The ocean breeze swirled around them, creating small whirls of old leaves and dust in its wake and the abandoned letter skittered forward to rest beside the couple.

   It was Jaejoong who pulled away first, his sobs quieting to soft hiccups as he looked down to gather himself and wipe his eyes. His dark eyes rested upon the letter beside him, its existence taunting him and filled his gut like a heavy stone. With hesitant fingers, he picked it up and slipped it into his pocket.

Now was not the time, as he and his long lost lover collected themselves, brushed the dust from each other’s clothes and headed home; ready to start a new life together.

Taiwan  
Fall - 1948

The weather was warm.  
   Dappled late morning sunshine streamed through the large bedroom windows that overlooked the sea, sparkling like the facets of an aquamarine jewel.  
   A light breeze, tinged with the fresh salty scent of the sea, beach wood and cypress plants that grew along the coast, rolled lazily through the open window beside the bed. It ruffled Jaejoong's dark hair and tickled his nose, causing the young man's brows to furrow as he burrowed further into the soft quilt wrapped around him. He let out a deep sigh into the snowy white pillow as the land of dreams finally eluded him and rolled over, a smile spread across his face as the visage of his sleeping lover greeted his sight. Just like a day, so many years ago.

  
\---

  
_“At Dawn I open the door_  
The familiar scene welcomes me.  
After the warm winter, drowsy spring and hot summer  
My dreams of four seasons were all you.”


End file.
